


Yellow

by xXdark_moonXx



Series: Summer [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Artist!Reader, Deviant!Connor, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, Movie Night, Post peaceful revolution, Really fluffy, Second person POV, my first ao3 fic, self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25852777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdark_moonXx/pseuds/xXdark_moonXx
Summary: Connor enjoys visiting your apartment when he has free time. You always have something to teach him.
Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader
Series: Summer [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881727
Comments: 4
Kudos: 91





	Yellow

**Author's Note:**

> Just some self-indulgent Connor fluff!
> 
> Any book or movie titles in this are made up or a parody lol. And sorry, this fic kind of went all over the place but I hope you like it! :)

Connor knocks on the door, fidgeting with his coin absentmindedly.

“Coming!” He hears you call frantically from inside. A smirk tugs at his lips. You were probably painting again—you’ve been working on a new piece for the past few days.

After a moment he hears fast footsteps, and then the door opens, revealing your paint-streaked, grinning face. “Hi Connor!”

“Good afternoon,” Connor replies pleasantly, tucking his coin away.

You glance down at his outfit: a dark blue button-up—the top two buttons undone, the sleeves rolled up to the elbow—and black jeans. “You look nice.”

“You look nice as well.”

“You’re too sweet, these are my painting clothes,” you say with a wave of your hand. “Come in! I need your opinion,” you eagerly step to the side, urging him in. He complies, stepping inside your studio apartment. Golden sunlight streams through the windows, bathing the room in yellow. Connor has grown to associate this color with you—you wore it often, and your apartment always seems to be tinted by the sunlight. He didn’t have a favorite color, but if someone asked him to choose he would definitely pick yellow.

You grab Connor by the arm, tugging him over to the ‘painting area,’ where there’s a large canvas set against the wall. It’s partially covered with oil paint, picturing some sort of animal. “Okay, so I have the basics down, finally. I’m trying to decide if I want to use really crazy colors for the dog, or if I want to keep it natural.” You say, putting a hand to your chin. Black paint smudges onto your already dirty face.

Connor turns and observes the painting. The background has been mostly blocked in with black, though the dog, which looks to be a Labrador, is a simple pencil sketch on the canvas. “I’d say, since the background is very simple,” he begins slowly, “that brighter colors would make the subject more prominent.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” you say, nodding seriously. Connor laughs softly, and you look up at him.

“What?”

“It’s just, you have paint on your face,” Connor says, amusement in his voice.

You chuckle, looking down at yourself. “Oh yeah, I’m sure I look like a total mess right now.” You really do. There are paint streaks up your legs, spattered on your shorts and tank top, and even a few strands of your hair have the substance wiped across them. “The price I pay for art,” you say, looking off into the distance.

Connor looks back at the painting, analyzing what colors might work best. “If you need color suggestions, I believe yellow and blue would look nice.”

You nod slowly, brow furrowing. “Oooh, see, I wasn’t even thinking that! I though maybe hot pink or something.” You look at the canvas, and you can see it: light blue fur, shaded with dark blue and highlighted with a cheerful yellow. “That would be perfect! You might just have the makings of an artist, my friend.” You smirk, knocking Connor’s arm with your elbow.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Connor says sheepishly. He’d simply researched color combinations, though he had to admit he’d tried to incorporate yellow. “But thank you.”

“No problem,” you say. “Okay, before we do anything I should probably take a shower.” You look down at yourself again, a sour expression on your face.

“Do what you need to,” Connor says pleasantly. “I can wait here.”

“Okay, great. Make yourself at home—you can watch TV or, I dunno, read a book, if you want.” You wave at the living area, smiling broadly. “I’ll be quick!” With that, you jog up to the loft.

Connor watches you go, and then turns and looks into the living room. After switching the television on for a moment and finding nothing interesting, he turns to your book shelf. He peruses through the mostly fantasy novels until his eyes fall on a worn, paper book. Intrigued, Connor takes it and begins reading.

***

You emerge from the bathroom, ruffling your hair a bit. A look at the windows tells you the sun has nearly set. You peak over the loft to see Connor is settled on the couch, reading a paper book.

“Whatcha got there, Con?” You ask, leaning on the rail.

Connor looks up at you, a smile tugging at his lips. “One of your books. It’s interesting—I’ve learned a bit about human emotion,” he says cheerfully.

“Oh! That’s good,” you say as you start down the stairs. “Which book is it?”

“It’s called _Summer Sunflowers,”_ Connor says.

You stop in surprise. _“Summer Sunflowers?_ The romance novel?” The thought of Connor reading a sappy love story makes you giggle.

“Oh, that’s what it is?” Connor looks down at the words again. “Yes, I see it now. Well, I’m... enjoying it, so far.” He closes the book and sets it down, moving to stand.

“You don’t need to get up,“ you say quickly. “I was thinking we could watch a movie?”

Connor sits down again. “I’m okay with whatever you’d like,” he says.

“Movie it is, then! Do you want to pick?“ You ask, moving into the kitchen. “I’m gonna get something to eat real quick. I kinda... forgot to eat lunch,” you admit, smiling sheepishly.

Connor frowns at that. “That’s not good for you,” he scolds, though there’s a smile in his eyes. You could look in those big brown eyes all day.

“I know, I know,” you sigh as you turn to look into the fridge. “I just got so caught up in my painting. It happens sometimes.”

“I will pick the movie then. Please try to eat something with at least a _little_ nutritional value,” Connor teases. You roll your eyes, taking out an instant Mac and cheese. You really didn’t feel like waiting.

“Fine, I’ll eat some strawberries. Is that good enough for you?” You turn back to him, smirking.

“I suppose that will do.” His eyes are on the TV now, scanning through your movies. The scrolling stops on a movie, and you can see Connor’s LED flashing.

“Ooh, _The Man from A.U.N.T_?” You say, leaning over the couch. “That’s a good one.”

“What’s it about?” Connor asks.

You smirk at the question. “Didn’t you read the summary?”

“Yes,” Connor says defensively. “But, I want to know your take on it.” Your heart melts at his sheepish expression.

“It’s about World War 2,” you explain. “A spy from America and a spy from Russia have to work together to save a German scientist who’s being forced to create an atomic bomb. It’s an action comedy, with a sprinkling of romance.”

Connor tilts his head, looking up at you. “How could a movie about a world war be a comedy?“

“You’ll just have to watch and see,” you smirk, ruffling his hair. The action takes both of you off guard, and you suddenly realize how close your faces are. Connor simply watches you, an unreadable expression on his face. You start counting the freckles and beauty spots littered across his skin.

The microwave beeping makes you jump, standing upright. “Uh, I’ll go get that,” you mutter, face red.

“I think I’ll choose this one,” Connor says as you return with your food. You notice he hasn’t fixed his hair; the slightly messy look makes him even more attractive. You’d have to mess it up more often, you think slyly.

Connor looks at you expectantly, and you realize you’re staring again. “Good choice,” you say, shoveling macaroni in your mouth so you don’t embarrass yourself further. With that, the movie starts.

***

Near the middle of the movie, you start to shiver from the cold AC. You could get up and get a blanket, but you’re too lazy to move. You side eye Connor, who is still engrossed in the movie, brows furrowed as he watches. He looks so cute when he concentrates.

You scoot closer, heart racing in your chest, and carefully press against Connor’s side. He blinks, taken out of his trance, and looks down at you, eyes slightly wide. You just give him an innocent smile, though you prepare to move if he shows signs of discomfort. His lips turn up at the corners, and he turns back to the movie.

You look back at the movie as well, though your focus is entirely on Connor’s body pressed against yours. He’s so solid, yet he has a gentle give that makes him _so_ comfortable. And boy is he _warm._ You want to wrap your arms around him and absorb the pleasant heat he’s giving off, but you figure you’re testing your luck as it is. You shiver again, and Connor glances down at you.

“Are you cold?” He murmurs. Goosebumps run over your skin, but not from the AC. You nod slightly, offering a small smile. Connor looks at you another moment, and then he takes his arm from between you and carefully places it over your shoulders, pulling you closer. You make a startled sound as he runs his hand up and down your arm. You know he’s just trying to warm you up, but the intimacy of it makes your face go red. “Is that better?” He whispers. You can feel his breath on your hair.

“Uh, y-yeah, thank you.” Is this really happening? Are you asleep right now? Connor smells so _fresh,_ you want to turn your head and bury your face in his chest, take in everything about him. Instead, you carefully lean your head on his shoulder, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. _This is nice._

***

“So, what did you think?” You ask, looking up from your place against Connor’s side. He looks down at you, LED flashing blue.

“I enjoyed it,” he says after a moment. “The message of camaraderie—no matter where you come from—is relevant to today, I think. It’s interesting that such an old film can relate to our time.”

You smirk at his thoughtful answer. Naturally he would have something profound to say. “Yeah, I totally agree. I do think it’s funny that we keep trying to hit that lesson home, but people are still discriminated for where they come from.” You point out. “But hey, humans are stubborn. Slow to change.”

“Some are,” Connor says. “But not you. I mean, look at us.” His hand runs up your arm, giving you goosebumps all over again. “We’re very close, despite the fact that I’m an android.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, hiding your face in the crook of his arm. “Connor?” You ask, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

“Yes?” You feel his breath in your hair again.

“What am I to you?”

Connor is quiet. You can feel the synthetic rise and fall of his chest, his heart beating steadily. “You mean, our relationship?”

“Yeah. Are we just... friends?”

His arm holds you a little tighter. “Is that what you want?”

 _No,_ heavens _no,_ you think.

“That depends on what _you_ want.” You decide on instead. “I don’t want to force anything on you.” You start to move away from him, but his arm holds you in place. “Connor?”

He lets go of you, turning his head to study you with his soft brown eyes. “I think... this was nice. Holding you in my arms felt nice,” he says slowly. “I would want to do it again. What does that make us?” He asks. He looks so lost.

You smile, ruffling his hair again. “More than friends,” you murmur.


End file.
